Courage Inked On The Walls Of My Skin
by EverythingIsZouisNothingHurts
Summary: Blaine was an artist. He needs to be set free. Free to roam. Free to live. Free to create. Most days Blaine escapes the loving arms of his boyfriend Kurt to flee to the roof of their apartment building. There he works, paints, lives, creates. Blaine is struck with an amazing artistic breakthrough. But for some reason, it seems strikingly familiar.


Blaine adjusted the snapback brand hat that sat on top of his perfectly gelled jet black hair. He turned the hat backwards and a little to the side, the way he liked it.

He then looked over before him.

A blank wall.

An empty canvas.

He shifted his eyes down and saw the array of colors in spray paint cans in little rows. He leaned down and tapped his index finger to his smooth chin, looking over all the colors he had.

His deep brown eyes glazed over every color at least three times but settled on a tanish beige color he had.

He'd never used it before and it looked creative enough for this beautiful empty white wall he had.

He picked it up and placed his right index finger on the white spray valve, planning out where to spray first. He decided in a little corner of the wall. He began painting.

It looked amazing the way it was coming along. He was already deciding in his head what he actually wanted to paint. He usually didn't start painting until he knew exactly what he wanted.

But today, he guessed he was feeling a little spontaneous. The fear of going to quick and ruining the entire new canvas he had struck him like a metal baseball bat and soon clenched into a pit in his stomach.

But he toughed through it, finishing the piece of beige paint he wanted. He stood back a little, sitting the used paint can on the ground with the others.

He was honestly just painting, unaware what he wanted. So stricken by art and the urge and need to create that he tried to figure out what he painted even looked like.

He placed his hands on his hips,looking over the piece he had painted. So far, it looked like nothing. But Blaine was always taught, if something doesn't look right in art, make it so it does.

So he flickered his eyes down to his various cans of paint. The first unique color he saw that he'd never used other than beige was a light purple.

_Very_ light purple.

Almost so much as a periwinkle shade.

He picked up the can and placed it close to the not so white anymore, began painting. He damned himself as soon as he started again because he again-

had _no_ idea what he was painting.

He pushed the thoughts so far to the back of his mind that art took over. He didn't know what he was painting, but he didn't so much care. He loved the colors.

How they blended together well, he never would of thought. He finished whatever he did next to the beige paint and looked over it. He had basically done the same thing in periwinkle, but stouter and wide length wise.

He shook his head and placed the light purple down as well next to the used beige. He stepped a little farther back, looking over it. It still looked amazing to him.

He looked at the spray paints again but instantly found the color he wanted. A color he had used before, many times actually.

A magenta style pink.

He started spraying and decided to make every different color he added to the art piece, the same as the beige spot. But a different size, length, width and color.

It sounded brilliant in his mind and even better was looking quite brilliant coming to life on the wall.

The idea pleased him so much he cracked a large smile as he continued to paint a new magenta colored spot. Unlike the last one, the periwinkle, this one was wider.

Blaine noticed that the width and color was the only real noticeable difference between the purple and pink spots.

He wiped his hands on his old, worn white shirt.

It had been stained with years of all Blaine's previous art and him wiping his hands on it would just be a later reminder of this magnificent project for him.

He looks down at the other paints, smiling and excited at how amazing this project was looking. He didn't even know what it was, but it looked amazing. He didn't think he had ever been _this_ happy with_ any_ of his previous works.

He again saw right away the color he wanted.

A mahogany, darkened red.

He uses it and sprays it in thin layers, it goes on very nicely and looks amazing against the white and darkish pink and white wall. This splotch of mahogany was slightly thicker and wider length wise than the magenta spot.

Blaine doesn't even mind putting the can back on the concrete safely, he basically just throws it down and goes to grab yet another can. He took the black and sprayed an outline of a splotch instead of making the actual spot itself.

He felt it was creative to have a _white_ spot in his mixed masterpiece against a _white_ wall. He drops the can carelessly and only stops for a second to adjust his hat once before grabbing another can.

Navy or royal blue.

Another splotch added.

A quick break to wipe his hand on his also previously painted with earlier art, jeans.

Another can.

Beige-_again._

Blaine used it for the first time in this artwork on the wall and used it to create the first beautiful splotch. He felt he needed to tribute an introduction to the amazing color by using it to create the last and final splotch.

He dropped that can carelessly as well. He could of went on, drawing around it or making more splotches but as an artist, Blaine knew that if you felt the art is done- _it's done_.

He stood back and placed his hands on his hips, marveling at the beautiful yet confusing masterpiece.

But suddenly, a feeling hit him.

The feeling of- emptiness.

He felt the art wasn't finished.

Something was missing.

"Something is missing. It seems and feels so simple but it's missing." he tapped his spray painted stained fingers to his chin, leaving paint residue on it.

"Blaine? You up here?" he heard a soft and comforting voice. He looked over to the door and stairs that led up to the roof of his building where he was painting. Opening the door and peering through was his boyfriend, Kurt.

He closed the door behind him and walked to Blaine. He stood beside him and looked over the colorful splotches. Though colors were so different and all the shapes varied in length and width and size, they looked amazing together.

They immediantly struck Kurt as resembling a ransom note or different letters cut out of different magazine ads and glued together so they spelled a word but were different colors and sizes and fonts.

Kurt told Blaine of his thoughts on the art and it hit him.

What he was missing.

He grabbed Kurt's hand tightly, intertwining their fingers. Kurt didn't mind at all that his boyfriend's hand was now smearing different color paint residue on his clean, soft hand. Blaine picked up the black spray can and proceeded to spray a different letter in each splotch.

All seven splotches had one letter in it.

The first biege spot had a "C".

The light purple spot had an "O".

The magenta spot had a "U".

The darkened red or mahogany spot had a "R".

The white spot with the black outline had an "A".

The navy/royal blue spot had a "G".

And the final, beautiful second beige spot had an "E".

Not letting go of Kurt's hand, Blaine stood back a whole lot of steps with Kurt so they could both take in what he had just created. He had now seen why this masterpiece seemed the most important to him in his brain and his stomach.

He looked over at Kurt to find Kurt already smiling at him with Blaine's favorite pair of crystal blue eyes. Disregarding the paint smudges on his boyfriend's face, Kurt pulled him in and pressed their lips together sweetly.

Despite the paint on his hands and all over his shirt, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist tightly and pressing him to his chest, not breaking their lips. Blaine had his art, and Kurt had Blaine's courage.


End file.
